Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Belgium and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Scion to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
The Techniques,
MDC,
The Trojans,
Brick,
Niagra,
The United States of America,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bob Dylan,
Interpol,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erasure,
Skaos,
Derrick Morgan,
Suburban Knight,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Byrd,
Amon Düül II,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fire Engines,
John Lydon,
Dave Gahan,
Delta 5,
the Swans,
Animal Collective,
The Divine Comedy,
Suicide,
Jandek,
The Doors,
The Barracudas,
Sandy B,
Lungfish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pulsallama,
Clear Light,
World's Most,
Yazoo,
Shuggie Otis,
Fluxion,
Crime,
The Smoke,
Tom Boy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
X-101,
Boz Scaggs,
Toni Rubio,
Pagans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deadbeat,
Ronan,
The Cure,
Gregory Isaacs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Guru Guru,
Hoover,
Michelle Simonal,
Nirvana,
Morten Harket,
Inner City,
New Age Steppers,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.